


A Fear of Shallow Living

by Sarahtoo



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, MFMM Flashfic Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: Phryne and Jack contemplate acting on the heat between them. (This takes us into AU territory of Dead Man's Chest.)





	A Fear of Shallow Living

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Nearness of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452000) by [Sarahtoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo). 



> OK, so RositaLG practically dared me to write a smutty follow-up to The Nearness of You, so she's to blame for this one. (Thank you, lovely!) There wasn't time for a full-on smutfest, but it's something, anyway!

The big house was quiet, the peace only broken by the sound of the occasional car or wagon running past along the shore. Phryne wrapped herself in a heavy silk robe after her bath, finally warm after the predawn plunge she’d taken with Jack. She supposed she should go back to bed, but she wasn’t tired. She’d spent the last hour thinking about her plans to slowly seduce Jack, and now she found that she was entirely awake—every cell in her body was thrumming with the need to sneak downstairs and ravish the man.

She wouldn’t, of course. She had more self-control than that, but the idea was terribly tempting.

What would he do if she knocked on his door right now? Was he, like her, just rising from a bath, his skin rosy with the water’s heat, his curls falling damply across his brow? She hoped he’d brought a second suit along—Dot was a wizard when it came to cleaning clothing, but there was no way his suit would be ready before nightfall. She hoped idly that his hat had survived the water.

But back to the question at hand. Would he welcome her if she came to his door? Would he step aside and let her in, then pull her into his arms for a kiss and possibly more? Or would he turn her away, make some excuse about why they should not explore the heat between them.

“I’m on duty, Miss Fisher,” he might say. “Perhaps we can discuss this when we return to Melbourne.”

Or maybe he’d say “What are you doing here, Miss Fisher?”

Or, best of all, maybe it’d be “Phryne. I hoped you’d come.”

Phryne sighed and curled herself onto the chaise that sat before her room’s fireplace, remembering him sitting there the night before. It was a moot point, really. She knew that he was cautious, and she’d decided that caution could be good. But oh, the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d held her against his side as they walked back to the house! Tucking her robe around her toes, she pushed out her lip in a pout. She hated waiting, and caution was no fun at all.

*****

Jack stood in the hallway outside Phryne’s door, his hands on his hips. He’d no business being up here, really. He needed to call Collins, see what the lab had found out about the bottle of rum Phryne had pilfered off the dead man’s body. There was actual police work to be getting on with, and yet here he stood, unable to get the image of Miss Phryne Fisher out of his head.

There was nothing for it—he wouldn’t be getting away easily here, and quite frankly, he no longer wanted to. The way she’d looked at him as they stood together in the hall, the way her arm had felt wrapped around his waist, the disappointment that had flashed through those beautiful eyes when Dot had interrupted them—she wanted him, he was sure of it. And he was tired of being cautious.

He’d been cautious for more than ten years—starting with the physical caution of wartime. When he’d come home, he’d kept his experiences from his wife out of concern that he’d hurt her with it. He’d hurt her plenty anyway, as it turned out. And since she’d moved out, he’d kept himself separate from… well, everyone, really. He was alive, but he wasn’t living, and it was time for that to stop.

Clenching his jaw, he took the last step to her door and rapped quietly with one knuckle—if she was busy or wanted solitude, it would be easy to ignore. Tucking his suddenly shaking hands into his pockets, he arranged his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression and waited.

The Phryne who opened the door left him speechless—she wore a robe of heavy silk in burgundy and pink, her face bore no cosmetics, and her black hair was damp. Trailing his eyes down her body, he noted the deep vee of her neckline and the absence of any visible nightdress, the narrow line of her waist with the robe’s pink tie set jauntily to the left of center, and her narrow bare feet with their red nail varnish. 

“Jack?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure why he was there.

“Miss Fisher,” he said, his own voice too jovial—he winced a little and saw her lips twitch. Oddly, that tiny movement settled him. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” she said, stepping back and opening the door wider. 

Jack nodded and stepped into her room, wondering what he should say. _I want you, Phryne._ Well, that was true, if a bit bold. _Remember that look we shared downstairs? Could we start there, this time without the interruptions?_ Better, maybe, but still too straightforward. Why hadn’t he thought about this earlier?

“Jack, is everything all right?” Phryne had stepped close while he was grappling with his own ineptitude, and she laid a soft hand on his arm. As with every time she touched him, he wished his clothing to the devil, wanting to feel her flesh touch his.

“I forgot something,” he blurted, and closed his eyes momentarily.

“Not your spare suit, I see,” she tossed back.

“No,” he said, feeling a smile stretch his lips and as quickly fall away. “No, I forgot… I wanted to… Damn it all.” On the last word, he stretched out a hand to catch her by the waist and pull her close. He lowered his head, watching her eyes go wide as she realized his intent; she softened against him, her hands landing on his lapels and her head tilting backward to give him access to her mouth.

Jack brushed his lips against hers, his eyes half closing. The kiss was gentle, their lips meeting and then parting as their eyes held. With a groan, Jack pulled her close and kissed her again, this time letting all of his feelings rage free, his mouth greedy and his tongue slipping between her lips to taste her. Phryne made a noise in the back of her throat and slid her hands up and around his neck, pressing her body against his. 

Her mouth was a wonder, soft and sweet; no other kiss had been like this one—Jack felt as if he’d discovered something entirely new, and he was already addicted. Phryne angled her head so that she could open her lips beneath his and meet his tongue with her own, and Jack lost himself in the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his tongue, the press of her softness against the growing hardness of his body. 

Without thinking, he stroked a hand down her silk-covered back to her bottom, his fingers catching in the belt of her robe before closing around the soft globe of her ass. Phryne whimpered, pulling herself closer, her nipples hard points that he could feel even through the fabric of his waistcoat and shirt. She was fire in his arms, lighting him up in a way he hadn’t experienced since the war, and maybe not even before it. He gave himself over to the flame, wanting nothing more than to burn.

*****

Phryne couldn’t think. Jack had come to her room. He had kissed her. She was kissing Jack.

And what a kiss—his hands roamed her back and bottom as he gave her mouth all of his considerable concentration. She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel, and she couldn’t be sorry for it. The kiss went on and on, until they were both breathless and as close together as they could be with clothes on. She wished that his hands would wander further, that he’d slip those long, clever fingers inside her robe to wander along her naked skin. If he did that, she was certain that neither of them would be leaving this room any time soon.

“Jack,” she gasped, pulling back just far enough to speak. His head moved to recapture her mouth, and she laughed unsteadily, bringing a hand around to press her fingers to his lips. “Jack, we need to stop.”

He opened his eyes, and the desire-dazzled heat of his gaze almost made her question her resolve. “Do we?”

“We do, I’m afraid,” Phryne said, regret in her tone. “We’re expected at breakfast shortly, and as much as I’d love to explore this—” she hitched her hips against the obvious proof of his arousal, and he groaned, low and deep, his hand on her bottom pulling her closer so that he could grind himself against her. She gasped, biting her lip before soldiering on. “As much as I’d love to explore this, I want us to take our time.” Cupping his jaw, she caressed his lips with the pad of her thumb and gasped when he caught it in his teeth, his tongue slipping out to stroke its tip, hot and wet. “Jack, please.”

Reluctantly, Jack raised his head, releasing her thumb and, more slowly, her body. He glanced down, and his jaw clenched.

“If you really want to stop, please—” he motioned at her robe, and Phryne looked. 

Her belt had loosened, and the lapels had opened enough that the inner curves of her breasts were visible, her taut nipples poking out against the silk. She heard him swallow as she tugged the robe closed; when she was fully covered again, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

He raised a hand to cup her cheek, and she studied his face. His lips were reddened from their interlude, his hair a little ruffled in the back, and when he smiled, his eyelids heavy, she felt her heart thump heavily in her chest. 

“Another time?” His deep voice was husky, and she smiled, feeling the roughness of his fingertips pulling against her face.

“Absolutely,” she replied, lifting a hand to hold his wrist and keep him close. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with just one kiss, you’ve got another think coming.”

Jack’s smile was a little shy, and he nodded carefully. “Perhaps when we’re back in Melbourne, we could continue this… discussion?”

Phryne grinned at his words, so similar to the ones she’d thought he might use to send her away, and turned her head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I have a lot to say, Jack Robinson. But right now, I need to dress for breakfast.”

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Jack replied.

With a last stroke of his thumb over her cheekbone, he let her go and stepped past her to the door. Phryne let her hand fall to her chest, and when he glanced back, she lifted it in a wave. He nodded slightly and was gone. She stood there, disbelieving and yet filling up with joy, for a long minute before whirling to assemble her outfit for the day. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to see where this change in her friendship with Jack would take them, and she was excited to take the first steps out of the shallows and into the deep. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Slow and Close](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143118) by [Sarahtoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo)




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